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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24145009">First Impressions</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/chemically_imbalanced_romance/pseuds/chemically_imbalanced_romance'>chemically_imbalanced_romance</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sanders Sides (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Multi, brief description of eczema, fears of a character being suicidal (they’re not), remus is manic depressive, this story is weird ngl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 18:41:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,475</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24145009</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/chemically_imbalanced_romance/pseuds/chemically_imbalanced_romance</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Anonymous asked:</p><p>uhhhhhhhh maybe.... soulmate au where you have the first words your soulmate says to you tattooed on ur body? with librarian deceit, cafe owner Virgil and tattoo artist Remus?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Anxiety | Virgil Sanders &amp; Morality | Patton Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Deceit Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Deceit Sanders</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>386</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>First Impressions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Virgil’s soulmark had been a point of scorn his entire life. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Written across his cheekbone, in ferocious, rabid letters read, “WELL AREN’T </span>
  <em>
    <span>YOU</span>
  </em>
  <span> SPECIAL!” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>All through elementary school, parents and teachers scowled at it, either thinking it too weird or too creepy. Through middle school, he was ruthlessly bullied for it, kids taking everything he said to mean that he was trying to be important or interesting, and pointing out that his soulmate would think the very same thing. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Virgil was doomed to be a bad first impression. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>When he was 15, he found the small, impossible-to-read soulmark behind his ear. It took him months to take a picture clear enough without anyone else’s help. In neat, cursive writing, read, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“A fine choice.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> It was around that time he started hating his first soulmate, and loving his second one. Every day he dreamed about what they would be like and how they would meet. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Throughout high school, he isolated himself to the extreme in which he rarely even spoke with his parents, and didn’t have any friends. He didn’t realize how much harder he was making his life until after school, when he didn’t have a group of people to hang around, just on the outskirts, company without getting too close. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Now he was just alone. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>In college, he volunteered in the cafeteria most days, the routine of the recipes the only thing that really calmed him down anymore. He was one wound up anxiety attack, and even though he was set off almost every day, he never ceased. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>He heard a group of kids talking about a student who gave stick-and-poke tattoos behind the cafeteria. The idea was so stupid and so close to his only safe place that it made him burn with rage. After his shift, he stomped back behind the building, finding a… </span>
  <em>
    <span>Razzled</span>
  </em>
  <span> looking boy crouched down over a girl’s arm, poking her with a very hot, very sharp stick. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>He had the messiest hair Virgil had ever seen in his life, and jeans that were so ripped they might as well have been scraps. His boxers hung through some of the holes, covered in Jason masks from Friday the 13th. Purple eyeshadow was messily scrubbed under his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Hey!” Virgil snapped as he stormed over. “What the hell are you doing? What’s the </span>
  <em>
    <span>matter</span>
  </em>
  <span> with you?! Some people eat back here, you know! And that- Isn’t that illegal?! It should be! That’s totally not safe! What, are they </span>
  <em>
    <span>paying</span>
  </em>
  <span> you to do that to them?! That’s awful!” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>The boy looked up, and his eyes flashed. Hand still poised over the girl’s arm, who stared at them in annoyance, a large grin slid over his face. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>And then, with all the genuinity in the world, he exclaimed, “Well, aren’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> special!” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Virgil was taken aback. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>He… Meant it. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>He </span>
  <em>
    <span>meant</span>
  </em>
  <span> it. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>He wasn’t mocking him, he wasn’t angry or upset, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>meant </span>
  </em>
  <span>it. And all of his life Virgil had hated him because he thought the boy was making fun of him. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Virgil stopped, and then spluttered out, “Uh- Fucking what?” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>The boy had all but lit up, shoving the girl aside and jumping over to Virgil and giving him a ferocious hug. It kind of felt like being smothered by a skeleton. Virgil hesitated, and wrapped his arms back around him. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>It was the first time he’d been hugged in years. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>In just those few words, Remus had gone from being someone Virgil loathed every day, to the most important person in his life. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>After they got closer- After many dates and lunches together and nights stayed up playing Minecraft or watching horror movies -Remus started to trace his words over Virgil’s cheek, over and over, while Virgil laid next to him and closed his eyes. He did this every day. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>When they were still getting to know each other, Virgil got whiplash from Remus’s manic depression. Before classes, Virgil would beg Remus to put down the sketchbook he’d been bent over all night, practically having to force him to eat and get something to drink, and when he came home a few hours later, it was impossible to get him out of bed. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>At first, Virgil was terrified. He didn’t understand the mood swings. When Remus was manic, Virgil thought he was just in a good mood, extra motivated, caffeinated. When he was depressive, Virgil was terrified that he was sick, dying, suicidal. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>When Remus finally sat down and explained it to him, Virgil was… Relieved. There was a diagnosis- Which meant it was expected. Which meant when Remus was manic, Virgil could pester him after a normal amount of work to stop and eat, to stop and spend time with him. It meant that when Remus was depressive, Virgil could crawl into bed with him, and hold him while they napped or watched movies, or be the push Remus needed to get up and function. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Remus and Virgil became an unshakable team, one their fellow students feared at times. With both their trust issues came a mutual clinginess and possessiveness, one that they both believed made their relationship stronger. They never got tired of each other, never feared they were bothering the other. Even when they were too burnt out for communication, they could work in the same room, or lay together in silence. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>After a few months of carefully getting to know each other, Virgil came back to his dorm to find Remus waiting for him, as had become the usual. Only this time, with that same familiar manic look Virgil had come to relate to chaos and care, Remus held a handful of roses he had so obviously ripped from the campus’s sidewalk, the thorns digging into his palm. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Virgil went to say something, but Remus dropped the roses on Virgil’s dresser and grabbed him by the face, and kissed him. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Virgil let out a soft sound of surprise, the subtle smell of iron smeared on his cheek, but he pulled Remus closer and sighed happily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That night, Remus confessed to his second soulmark. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>As Virgil ran his fingers over the familiar font of Remus’s hipbone, Remus stuttered out, “But I don’t want you to think it means anything, I mean obviously I have another soulmate out there but- But it’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>important</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you’re all I could have ever wanted and you’re all I </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> want and I don’t want you to think you’re not enough, because </span>
  <em>
    <span>god</span>
  </em>
  <span> you are </span>
  <em>
    <span>so more</span>
  </em>
  <span> than enough, and I just-”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“I have a second one, too.” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Virgil pulled his fingers away from the font that read, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>And how involved are you?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He pulled his long hair back and Remus peered in with curious eyes, half crossed, and they widened. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“You think they’re…?”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Virgil hesitated. “I don’t know,” he lied. He was afraid. “Does it matter?”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Remus shook his head firmly. “No.” He took Virgil’s hands and kissed his palms, his own freshly bandaged and cleaned. “No. It doesn’t.” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>They went through college with mostly just each other, until Virgil met Patton. It was in their business finance class, when the professor had everyone go around and list their small business idea. Virgil’s head shot up as Patton babbled on and on about his bakery/cafe/diner idea, and a pang of competitiveness burned in his stomach. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Usually Virgil would sit these things out, slouch down and learn as much as he could without participating too much, but when the professor got to him, he spat out his </span>
  <em>
    <span>own</span>
  </em>
  <span> bakery/cafe/diner idea, with probably more malice than was necessary. Everyone looked at him strangely. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>After class, Patton bounded over to him. “Hey! Virgil, right?” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Virgil had hesitated. Was he going to mock him? Tell him off for being so rude? He cleared his throat and pulled his sleeves over his palms. “Yeah. What?”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Your idea was so cool!” He all but squealed. “I never even thought of adding a library! It could go in the corner, with some bean bags and low tables? Oh- And your colour scheme! It was a little dark, but I love the idea of purple and light gray together.” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Virgil’s face had turned red. “Oh. Uh… Thanks. Yours was, uh, alright too.” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Patton pulled out a small, glittery journal from his hoodie pocket and wrote a phone number in pink ink. He ripped the page poorly and thrusted it in Virgil’s direction. “Could we talk about more of your ideas sometime? I have a bunch more, too, that you might like!” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>When Virgil told Remus about it, he was undeniably jealous. He whined when Virgil mentioned what Patton said about the colour scheme. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“The gray was </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> idea! That’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> compliment.” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Virgil laughed and kissed him. “I know. Do you want to meet him?” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Remus immediately relaxed. He laughed. “Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>The moment Remus met Patton, all of his insecurities melted away. Patton brought cookies for all of them, and a binder dedicated solely for the restaurant he and Virgil decided to create together. He complimented Remus on his outfit and his tattoos, and always asked for his opinion when deciding something for the company. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>He was sickeningly sweet, and impossible not to like. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>But he was no Remus. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>And Remus </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> Virgil was in love with Remus, not Patton. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Virgil shortly after his quit his volunteering hours to get a part time job, him and Patton steadily putting aside money. A few years after college, and after a very generous donation from Remus’s brother as a Christmas gift, Patton and Virgil bought their venue. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Remus got an apprenticeship at a tattoo shop not too far away, and they three had lunch together every day. Virgil cooked, and Patton set out baked bread, or cookies, or muffins. Utilizing everything they learned from their studies and more, Virgil and Patton had their business taking off just enough to keep their heads above water for an entire year. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>When Virgil was twenty four, he ventured into the local library to look for more recipes. He usually looked online, but all of his usual spots were run dry. He hoped to find an old book that he could dig into and rip apart (figuratively). He liked looking for the most boring recipes he could find, breaking them down to their basics, and adding approximately 15 more ingredients. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>As he wandered uselessly down the aisles, a man with dark skin covered in angry pink splotches passed. His nametag read </span>
  <em>
    <span>Janus</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Sorry, do you work here?” Virgil asked. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>The man stopped, looking disinterested. He hummed non committedly. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Right… Well, uh, I’m looking for the cookbooks? Do you have any? Something old, not looked at often?” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Janus’s eyes flicked to his, glimmering in slight interest. “A fine choice,” he said, and the words ran across Virgil’s skin and gave him goosebumps.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>He touched two fingers behind his ear, and swallowed. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Oh, dear God. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Come with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Janus didn’t realize Virgil was his soulmate. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Do you work here?’</span>
  </em>
  <span> He probably got that twenty times a week. And, God, how long has he worked here? </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Was he supposed to tell him? Would Remus want him to? Did Virgil even want to? How would he even go about doing that? </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Janus showed him to the cookbooks, and walked him through a couple. He was as quiet as Virgil was, but as confident as Remus, constantly making little quips and even possibly flirting with Virgil, if he read it correctly. He occasionally scratched at one of the pink splotches, brushing dead skin off his jacket. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>When it was time for them split, Virgil decided he couldn’t tell Janus they were soulmates- Not yet. But he couldn’t just let him get away, either. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Could I, uh…” He blushed. God, this was stupid. Roman actually did this often? What a moron. “Could I get your number? You know, if I…”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Janus raised an eyebrow. “Need help finding more books? Get lost in a library? I don’t know all of them by heart, just this one.” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Virgil covered his face and tried to duck away. “Never mind, sorry-”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Janus grabbed his arm. “I didn’t say no.”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>He peeked at him, and then realized- Janus was messing with him. He watched with thinly hidden amusement, waiting for Virgil’s reaction. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Fuck off,” he finally said, and Janus let out a loud, bubbling laugh, one that vibrated inside Virgil’s chest and echoed through the quiet room. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Arm,” he said as he patted around for a pen. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Virgil held his arm out, and Janus scribbled a number down. “Don’t keep me waiting,” he said, and then disappeared. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>That night in bed, Virgil told Remus about Janus, and everything that happened. Remus pulled Virgil closer and mumbled against his forehead, “Do you want to… Pursue him?” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“I don’t know,” Virgil said honestly. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>For so long, all he had was Remus and Patton, Remus then Patton, Remus and Patton. They were his constants and the only people he could trust. While Patton helped diminish his trust issues to the point where he didn’t decide to hate everyone he met before they said a word, he was still… Uncertain. Uncertain anyone would stick around. Uncertain he wanted them to. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Just uncertain. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>The next day during lunch, the two of them told Patton about their predicament, and Patton laughed and said, “Just invite him over for lunch!” He said it like they were being so silly. “It doesn’t have to be a date. Soulmates can be platonic- Like Ro and I!” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>So they did. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Janus visited sometime in the next week, and when he sat down he said, before anyone else could get a word in, “When you told me you owned a cafe, I didn’t expect it to be so… Established. How many patrons do you get a week?” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Virgil and Remus blinked, and when Virgil answered, it started a long spiral of a conversation, enough for Janus to take his phone out and type out notes while they talked marketing strategies. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>At one point Janus turned to Remus, the first time he’d addressed him the entire time, and said, “And how involved are you?” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Remus’s mouth went dry. Virgil stared between the two of them, his heart lurching in happiness. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“We’re as attached as siamese twins,” he managed. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Janus, who’d previously been typing on his phone, stopped. He swallowed. His eyes flicked to Remus’s, who smiled nervously. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>He straightened his shoulders and slid his eyes over to Virgil’s, tense and ready to block a thrown coffee cup. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Do you… Also have two soulmarks?” Virgil asked. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>And then it clicked. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>“Do you work here?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>The itch in his side Janus had written off as his eczema, the tired eyes staring half-blankly at him. The swoop of purple bangs and smeared eyeshadow. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>He’d heard it so many times, and he wondered if that meant something had been taken away from him. He should have looked at that moment as a turning point, as something miraculous and rare- But he didn’t. It was a conversation he’d had a million times, only with a boy ten times cuter than usual. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Um, I- I can meet with the journalist,” he stammered, “and meet back here on Friday?”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Remus and Virgil agreed, and a few weeks later, a glowing review appeared plastered all over Facebook, Twitter, and Tumblr. There was a special section dedicated to Virgil and Remus’s relationship. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Janus came barging in just before opening the day the review came out, insisting they needed to capitalize on it, </span>
  <em>
    <span>immediately</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He groaned when they admitted they hadn’t planned anything, and whipped up some quick solutions. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Virgil and Remus decided right then, as customers flooded their cafe and Janus stood back with a pleased, arrogant grin, that they wanted to pursue him. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>It wasn’t until the next week that they invited him on a proper date. They saw him every day, laughed with him, fed him, got to know him- And every time he left, the two would talk it over, and over and over and over. When they were certain they were on the same page, they asked him. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>They took him on a walk through the city, stopping to listen to live music and eat from Remus’s favourite food truck (which he promised was safe). Although no one else would be able to tell, Janus was uncharacteristically shy. He tugged at and fidgeted with his gloves, talked in circles, and when Remus reached out and laced their fingers, his entire face went red. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>It was adorable. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>The two of them dropped Janus off at his house after and kissed his cheeks before they left, and they stayed up late talking, talking about how much they loved him, how happy they were, what their next plan was. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>The next day, Virgil met Janus at work, just in time for his lunch break. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Janus poorly masked his surprise as he asked, “Oh- Virgil. What, uh, what are you doing here?”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Did you have plans?” He held up two lunchboxes. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Janus shook his head and they found a quiet spot in the library. “This is from me,” Virgil said, pushing one of the lunchboxes to him. He opened it and pulled out a bag of cookies. “These are from Patton. And this is from Remus.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a sleeve with a taxidermied moth. “He thought you’d like it.” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Janus pursed his lips and took the dead bug delicately. It was completely flat- He slid it under the cover of his book and tucked it carefully in his bag. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Is everything okay?” Virgil asked. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Yes,” Janus said honestly. “I’m just… Surprised. I didn’t think you’d be here.” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Well, unless you ask me to, I’m not going anywhere.” He rested his hand over Janus’s, always covered by gloves. One time Janus had pulled them off on a particularly hot day to show large, dry scabs. He’d promised they don’t hurt, people just don’t like to look at them. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Janus leaned over and kissed him softly. Virgil startled, and then relaxed into it, running his fingers over Janus’s knuckles. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>When he pulled away, Virgil smiled, a bit out of breath. “Remus will be happy.” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>They ate together, talking quietly, and agreed for Janus to come over that night to watch movies with him and Remus. Virgil picked Remus up from work at the tattoo parlour and told him everything. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>They spent a few hours setting up the apartment, cleaning, cooking dinner, and Virgil changing out all the batteries in his faerie lights. They set out extra blankets and pillows and a queue of movies. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>When Janus arrived, he was dressed down, more so than the two had ever seen him. He wore a pair of high waisted black jeans and a yellow muscle tee, missing his usual beanie and gloves. The scabs on his hands had diminished only marginally since they last saw them, and he scratched nervously at a splot that poked out from his sleeve. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>As the night went on, they realized they had never </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> met Janus. The Janus they had known was eloquent, put together, calm. But the Janus that had so kindly revealed himself tonight was… </span>
  <em>
    <span>Silly</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He was laughing, and joking, and teasing, and sometimes just plain stupid. He had Virgil and Remus laughing so hard their stomachs hurt. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Remus found himself curled up half in Janus’s lap, Janus’s arms wrapped around him, half asleep. Virgil ran his hands over Remus’s legs, which were thrown in his lap, smiling at Janus. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“This is something you’d have to get used to,” he said. “He’s a cuddler.” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Janus blushed. “I don’t mind.” </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Remus leaned up to kiss his cheek, and then hovered. “Please?”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Janus cleared his throat and then, with a little uncertainty, gave him a soft kiss. Remus couldn’t help but squeal against his mouth, pressing closer as Janus chuckled. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>They fell asleep on the couch, under the purple glow of Virgil’s lights. After that day they saw Janus a whole lot more, and a few months later, Janus moved in with them. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>He thought back to when he was younger, how much he loathed the soulmark on his cheekbone, how much anger it brought him. The way people used it against him, used it to make him hate himself, and it led to one of the people he loved most in the world. And he thought back to when he first discovered Janus’s soulmark, the much-needed hope it brought him, and how accurate that was. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>When he’d read those marks, he didn’t actually believe his soulmates would want him, if he’d ever even met him. Part of him believed they would meet each other and fall in love without him. But Remus looked at him like he was his entire world and Janus never left his side. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>He would have never guessed. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey I also do commissions pls commission me</p></blockquote></div></div>
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